When she took my notebook off the desk, our hands touched. She must have felt the flash too, as she lingered longer than usual. Long enough to see her breasts through the opening of her blouse. Uh, she's not wearing her bra again. All right, I'll confess. What are a few years between us? Now I'm stalking them both from the bathroom. She cries, he swears like a driver. Of course he found his car with all the wheels slashed. I must hide the screwdriver. Will it still have fingerprints on it after I wiped it with toilet paper?
Lucian Domșa
He was a student at the Theological Course, she began her story. Skinny as a rail and thin as a pole. We crossed our paths once and she smiled at me in a strange way. She searched for me the next day. His colleagues, the popes, called him Agheasmie, because of the fact that on the day of Epiphany he jumped naked into the frozen Mures. He recited from Nichita Stănescu to me, saying that the poet drank two litres of vodka every day, and he could drink three and not get drunk. I wanted to avoid him, but he kept chasing me and asking me if I wanted to be his priestess.
Ana Maria Dobre-Nir
We spent a whole night walking the streets. I couldn't believe I had just met her, but, with her holding my hand, I felt at home. A home I'd been looking for maybe for thousands of years. As the sun rose, she told me that unfortunately she was in a hurry because she had a plane to catch. I kissed her and told her in her ear. I'm your match on Earth, you can get on the plane, but as soon as it starts taking off, you'll realize you can't live or even breathe without me. She smiled at me and walked away. Then, the letter.
(Translated by Florina Șamata / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficțiuni Reale.